Rights of Passage.

As I sit here, looking at a person I used to know, I hardly recognize him. His shape, his face, his movements, everything is different. This is a person that was lively, energetic, not always talkative per se, but inquisitive. A "how are you?" guy, an asker, a listener. Now, he's so quiet. I wonder what's going through his mind right now. Sitting propped up in that noisy, weird, uncomfortable plastic hospital bed being fed through a tube. I can only assume he's not happy about his food situation, whatever's in that drip doesn't look appetizing whatsoever. Every now and again he'll make a face, a sign that says "hey, I'm still here!" and it kind of makes me laugh. I got a little nosy and started looking at all the pictures people have left him since he's been here, found the ones of us from prom our senior year. What a weird night to think back on, we were all such good friends and nearly none of us have kept in touch. In fact, I haven't seen him in at least a year now, tonight is the first time in quite a while. I stopped my snooping and went back to my thinking only to realize that there isn't much to think about. This is my friend, he's sick, I'm here, what do I say? What do I do? Should I keep talking to him even though his eyes are closed? How will I know if he's sleeping or not? I want to tell him about everything that's been going on here at home while he's been away and in my life and all that jazz, but more than that I want to hear his. But I can't. Sometimes life is so unfair, it just doesn't make sense.

There's one of those picture-changing frames by his bed and I was watching it for a while until it got to a certain picture. It was a flash-heavy capture of the inside of a cockpit. Dan's passion, what he was going to school for, to be a pilot. It made me look away, I couldn't even fathom having my dream taken from me like that. What if something happened to me one day and I was told I couldn't finish college and carry out my dreams of being a teacher? I would be crushed, I would be more than crushed, I would be devastated. That's what I felt for him when I saw that picture, devastation. I might even be so bold as to say I felt a little bit of his heartbreak. And to think, when I woke up this morning my dad asked me if I wanted to go flying with him. Yes, I did, but I bet I know somebody who wanted to go more than I did.

Why do things like this happen? I know people are all about "trusting God's plan" and "believing that there is a purpose to everything," but what if that just isn't good enough for the rest of us? What if I am not a strong enough person to rely on faith? What if I want facts, answers, reasoning and logic? Who can explain why tragedy would strike a perfectly healthy, mildly successful, friendly, normal 20 year old guy? What is unfair is not this?

And just as I've been here, the sun has decided to start setting and the clouds have rolled in. Pretty indicitive of my mood. I wish I could give him back something, anything. We're all so helpless. This is all not fair.